


On the Nature of Daylight

by Lonyn



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 17:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14169447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lonyn/pseuds/Lonyn
Summary: A series of one-shots and prompts involving my warden Ohahn Cousland and Alistair Theirin throughout their time together in Thedas.





	1. Don’t you ever do that again!

 

            He was mad, fuming even. So much so that the cold night’s air wasn’t even enough to cool down his heated body. Wynne was tending to her wounds, a sharp cut across her neck that was so close to being horrific that he didn’t know how she was even sitting up, let alone able to walk around.

            She took it in stride, as per usual. Same stoic and blank expression he’d gotten used to seeing, but her stormy blue hues defied her. They were full of reckless abandon. Full of rage that she refused to let others see, but once he’d become keen to her tells he’d figured out that her eyes betrayed her.

            It was too close this time, and he’d felt his heart drop when he’d seen her take the risk as she dove into a small group of darkspawn and began fighting away. She’d let them surround her, let them get the better of her like she was testing herself to see if she truly was invincible. At the last sliver of a second she’d moved, the sword catching the side of her neck and crossing the back of it. The burst of red had stolen his breath, and he thought he’d lost her right then and there.

            He had fallen for this woman, almost immediately, if not the first time they met then the quiet confidence she exuded when they’d first ventured into the wilds. She was fearless, but now it was far too reckless.

            Wynne finally finished with her healing spell, a light scar that made it seem as if she merely suffered a scratch. He couldn’t take it any longer, he’d paced enough, fumed enough, he had to get this off of his chest. He made his way towards her and she looked up at him from her seat.

            “Can we talk?” He tried to ask with as much civility as he could muster.

            “I don’t think—”

            “No, we need to talk. Now.” He practically demanded, and he watched her brows knit together in a frown. He was waiting for her to tell him she didn’t follow his orders, though she never said it he’d understood it in looks she’d given to others who had tried to order her around. She didn’t give him that look, but she was angry and he could tell as she began to walk off towards the riverbank they were camped near.

            “Alistair, it’s been a long day—”

            “Don’t you ever do that again!” He nearly burst, trying to keep his voice down despite being a good distance from the others. They couldn’t see them through the trees, and he was thankful. He didn’t exactly want anyone to see if she had decided to throttle him.

            He could see the darkening of her eyes, “Excuse me?” She was the type of woman that would answer with a dangerous sounding threat that was low and menacing. He didn’t like that look, but he was through with her reckless actions.

            “Ohahn, I don’t know what we are, but I care far too much about you to watch you throw your life away like this!” He explained his case. “You almost,” his breath hitched in his throat and he wiped his hand over his mouth trying to catch his thoughts. He placed his finger close to the pulse in her neck. “You were this close… This close, Ohahn.” He tried to stress to her. He couldn’t read those stormy hues at the moment. But then he saw it, a flicker, and he knew it was there.

            She looked away, walking past him towards the water’s edge. “I was fine, Alistair, Wynne took care of me.” She said evenly.

            “No, you weren’t fine.” He protested. “This is far from fine. You’re on a crusade to die at this rate.”

            “We’re already dying.” Came her calm reply and it was maddening.

            “So what’re you doing then? Trying to speed up the process?” He asked incredulously, throwing his hands up. “We have a mission, and I need you there with me. We have to see this through. And I… I can’t bear the thought of losing you like this.” He swept in beside her, his large frame complimenting her own tall and strong physique. He was gentle, hand soft upon her elbow. “You told me about what happened to your family. Your home. Would they want this for you?” Her lips parted at his question, and she tried not to look at him. He slid in front of her, hands upon her cheeks as he turned her to look at him.

            He hadn’t dared to touch her intimately like this; scared and shy to so much as even place his hand upon her shoulder. But he’d touched her neck and it felt like a surge had leapt through him, and it felt right. To feel her skin with his own fingertips had ignited enough confidence for him to want to go further.

            He leaned down, she didn’t move, so he closed the distance and settled his lips upon hers. He couldn’t believe he’d done this, he was kissing her and he slowly began to work her lips. He nearly gasped when he felt her kiss him back, her hand touching his neck and moving closer to him. Her touch sent a fire coursing throughout his veins, her fingers so soft against his skin. He couldn’t believe he was kissing her, but more so he couldn’t fathom that she was actually kissing him back.

            He broke from her lips, needing to catch his breath, and the hazy look in her eyes was something he hadn’t seen before. He ran his thumb over her parted lips, the heat of her breath ghosting across his finger.

            “Ohahn, I’m sorry… I just… I was scared for you.”

            She let out a sigh, a puff of air escaping her. “I apologize too.” She looked like she wanted to say something, but he stopped her, knowing it was difficult for her to express her feelings. The fact that she apologized meant something to him.

            “You don’t have to explain it. I know what you went through, I know it’s hard, but… Please, for my sake… Be safer.”

            There was a small tug to the corner of her lips, so slight he’d almost missed it, but he could see a hint of playfulness cross her eyes. “You kissed me.” She stated, the confidence he’d had before was waning and she was making him nervous as they spoke of it.

            “Yes, I… I uh did.” He chuckled softly.

            “Well, then,” she placed her hand to his cheek; his heart was rapidly beating at the thought of her lips back upon his. She eased into him, mouth touching his, and he let out the breath he was holding. He’d thought of this for quite some time, and now that he was finally kissing her, he couldn’t believe it had finally happened. He knew he had fallen in love with this woman. This incredibly frustrating woman.


	2. Be mine.

            Redcliffe had been a mess after the incident, and Ohahn figured that their group could use a break from travelling and to stay for a little longer. The villagers were glad for their help in cleaning up. It had been somber, but after a week of cleaning up the revelry had begun to help heal those who were left.

            Ohahn walked the streets, dusk beginning to fall and she could hear the music lilting throughout the village. The group was having fun, and she was glad they were, but she had to admit she was anxious to move forward. Loghain had delivered a low blow in trying to murder Eamon and created a huge mess. Eamon was getting better though, after having given him Andraste’s ashes, which was at least a start.

            She made her way into the square, people were dancing and drinking and she spotted Leliana singing. She was looking for Alistair, however, as he was always able to ease her wandering thoughts and helped her to slow down. She knew time was of the essence, but they had to keep a steady pace in their journey otherwise they were likely to end up worn and more torn than they needed to be.

            She didn’t see him as she scanned the square, she assumed he might have been up at the castle visiting with Eamon and Teagan, but then she saw Teagan mingling amongst the people. He spotted her watching the crowd and began to make his way over.

            “Lady Cousland, how is your evening?” He asked politely.

            “Well, I suppose. How are the people?”

            “They seem in better spirits. We needed this. They’re also enjoying that you and your companions decided to stick around. You might need to find Alistair though. He’s been trying to evade the attention of some young ladies who have been vying for his affections.”

            She scoffed low, a lightness lacing her almost chuckle. “Sounds about right.”

            “He speaks quite highly of you. Also, a lot of blushing.”

            She shook her head, realizing that Teagan had more than likely drank a fair share of ale himself. Her attention settled on Alistair’s broad frame exiting the tavern rather quickly and he spotted her from across the square.

            Teagan followed her gaze and smiled. “I’ll leave you two to it then.” She nodded to him as he wandered off and Alistair moved quickly towards her.

            “Stay with me, please.” He said and she actually chuckled.

            “Teagan said you were fending off some fans?” She drank from her own cup of ale she had and Alistair rubbed the back of his head.

            “It’s not what you think.”

            “So you’re letting them fawn all over you?”

            He narrowed his eyes, “You are quite cheeky you know that right?” He looked behind his shoulder and saw some women leaving the tavern. “Let’s go for a walk, shall we?”

            “Gladly,” She agreed as they made their way down the cobblestone streets. They were quiet for a bit, and she felt comfortable in his presence as always. His tall broad frame was always a comfort and compliment to her own tall build. She felt small in a good way compared to him, but she enjoyed his warmth when he was near.

            They hadn’t talked much about the kiss he’d sprung on her a few weeks back. She didn’t want to be distracted, but she couldn’t help but to _be_ distracted by him. He was so positive, silly, and always tried to make her laugh; things she hadn’t had before. She was the cold, quiet one that people tended to avoid back home. She didn’t have many friends, mostly training partners, so it was nice to have someone who wanted to talk to her even if she was quiet. She was confident in herself, wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, but she didn’t have much she wanted to say to others. But she wanted to talk to Alistair and that in itself was surprising to her. She also wouldn’t mind doing more, but as he’d already confessed he was vastly inexperienced and she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

            However, she didn’t even know what they had. What were they to each other, other than friends? They’d kissed, but avoided speaking of it again. So far he hadn’t tried to kiss her, and even though she knew they should be focused on their mission she couldn’t help but wanting him. Maybe it was because the situation was dire, or maybe she just didn’t want to admit to herself that she really truly cared for him. She hadn’t thought she’d care for another man, always brushing off her mother’s attempts to someday get her married. She felt a little bad for always giving her mother grief regarding that, but she just didn’t see it happening.

            It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be married, but she was realistic about it. She didn’t think she was the wife type, and she actually preferred this life to being cooped up in a castle worrying about royal duties. She was glad that Fergus was the elder sibling, and equally glad that her father had never brought up the prospect of marrying her off to another state to ‘strengthen’ relations as so often happened. If she was honest with herself, she probably would have run away had that happened.

            “Is everything… Alright?”

            “Hm?” She looked up at him and he looked like he had plenty on his mind as well. “Just thinking about home.”

            “Oh, I’m sorry.”

            “No, it’s alright, not about that.” She said, knowing that he thought she was dwelling on the massacre.

            “Ah, good. If it makes you feel any better that,” he pointed, “yes, that was the horse’s stalls I used to work at and often slept in.”

            She huffed, “That’s awful.”

            “Yes, well, Isolde preferred it when people didn’t think I was Eamon’s bastard son.” He shrugged. “Apparently sending me to work as a stable boy worked out better for her? Although if you really think about it, wouldn’t that make rumors worse?”

            She chuckled softly and he beamed at her. They could still hear the music from the square and Alistair stopped. “Ohahn, may I have this dance?” He bowed dramatically and she couldn’t help another soft laugh from escaping her.

            “Sure,” She answered, letting him pluck her cup of ale from her hands to set it on a stump next to the building.

            “Keep in mind, I’m quite terrible at this. I apologize now if I step on your feet.” He said and she laced her fingers with his finding how easily their palms fit with one another. She placed her hand on his shoulder and he eased his hand onto her back as they both began to sway to the lilting tune in the distance. “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”

            “Mother used to make me take dance lessons. It was actually rather calming.”

            He raised his brows, “You… You actually like to dance?”

            “It helps with fluidity of motion while engaging in combat.”

            “You do look rather graceful during battle. I mean… Not that I’m watching you of course. Just when I sort of… Glance in your direction,” He nervously dawdled, trying to cover his tracks. She smiled up at him, just being with him set her thoughts at ease. “You’re smiling,” he remarked.

            “Am I?” She pursed her lips. “I should put a stop to it then.”

            “No! Please don’t. You have a beautiful smile.”

            “Do I now?” She had a thought and then her lips slowly turned up again, cheekiness becoming her once more. “I don’t smile often, Alistair,” She hinted. She was hoping to coax him into another kiss, deciding that she wanted his affection. He grew nervous again, which she hadn’t intended. She didn’t want him to feel like that around her. “You don’t… Have to be nervous around me, Alistair. I like you too. I wouldn’t have kissed you back if I hadn’t.”

            “Ah, wow, r-really?” He stumbled a bit, and she nodded.

            “Yes.”

            “I simply… I didn’t know what to think. You hadn’t said anything and I… I didn’t know if I pushed your boundaries since you’re… You’re very private, and quiet. The last thing I wanted was to make you uncomfortable…”

            “Alistair, you don’t make me uncomfortable. I enjoy being around you. You’re unlike any man I’ve met.” She told him honestly.

            “I hope that’s a good thing.”

            “Certainly.”

            “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about… Maric being my father. I just didn’t want you to look at me differently.”

            “I see the man I first met in Ostagar. The one who tried to make me feel welcome, tried to make me laugh because he saw something was wrong deep inside me. The man that embraced me after I woke in the Wilds because we were all each other had. I don’t care about your past.”

            His smile was bashful as he looked down, “You are incredible.” He breathed. “I don’t know how you can say you like a mess like me.”

            “It takes a mess to know a mess.” She shrugged.

            He reached his hand that was settled on her back to brush a stray curl that had fallen from her bun behind her ear. “Be mine, Ohahn? I mean, not in the owning sense of course, I mean will you be mine only? Just us? I’ve never… I’ve never done any of this before and I really don’t know what I’m doing, but I want to try… Am I a fool to believe we have something?”

            “You are not a fool.” She leaned in, and he finally settled his lips upon hers. She felt… happy. She truly felt happy; it was something she hadn’t felt in such a long time, but being with Alistair set her heart racing. Their dancing had ceased, his hands cupping her cheeks as they stood there kissing each other; light and tentative as he got comfortable exploring new territories with her. She had to admit, he was quite good at this for someone who admitted to having so little experience.

            “Is that a yes then?” He breathed, breaking free of their kiss as he raised a brow.

            “Yes, although I don’t exactly know what a relationship is.” She admitted.

            “I thought you’d been with other men before?”

            “Sleeping around isn’t the same as being in a relationship.”

            He laughed, “Ah, point taken. Well… I only want to be with you. We can start with that. And this. More kissing. I rather like kissing you.”

            “Deal,” She smiled once more sliding her hands over his broad shoulders. “I rather like kissing you too.”


	3. First Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains NSFW content.

            Ohahn had given Alistair a small smile before she entered her tent. Everyone else had been sleeping and they’d just finished their nightly conversation by the fire. There was something she noticed in his eyes, a question he wanted to ask but didn’t know if he should ask it. She bade him goodnight and was in her tent now, sliding off her boots and tossing them aside. She saw the flap pull aside and there he was leaning down.

            “Is it… Can I come in?”

            “Yes.” She told him and he nervously entered and sat down, wringing his hands. “Is there something you wanted to ask me?” She questioned him and loosened her hair from its bun and let her golden brown hair fall in soft curls down her back as she shook it out. She watched his eyes widen.

            “Your… Your hair is so long. I hadn’t realized, I mean this is the first time I’ve seen you with it down. You look stunning, Ohahn… I mean not that you didn’t look stunning before of course, but I mean… I…”

            “Alistair, it’s okay,” She sat up on her knees and moved closer to him, kissing him. He groaned and she parted from him. “What’s wrong?”

            “I wanted…” He let out a nervous huff. “You remember when you asked me… If I could come back to your tent in that very sultry way you have about you and I, like a fool, actually said no?”

            “I understand you wanting to wait…”

            “I don’t… Anymore. I was… I was hoping your offer was still there.”

            “Only if you want it to be.”

            “Yes, I do… But you really need to know, I have no idea what I’m doing and I’ll probably be bad and—”

            Ohahn sat up on her knees and moved closer to him. “Just follow my lead, Alistair.” She bent her head down to kiss him slowly working his lips. She slipped her tongue in his mouth then eased back to let him lead; he definitely knew what he was doing when it came to kissing. She straddled his lap and pressed her body to his and she brought her hand down to stroke him through his pants. He was already hard, and she didn’t want him to feel worse than he already did about his inexperience. He groaned in their kiss and she continued to rub her hand along his hardened length. She could feel how thick he was even between the cloth and she shuddered slightly at the thought of him inside of her. The thought of a man she actually loved inside of her.

            “Wait, Ohahn,” He breathed.

            “Shh. Just come for me, Alistair.” She said huskily.

            “But what about, ah, you?” He strained, fingers digging into her hips.

            “We’ll get to that later. I want you to feel comfortable and relaxed with me.” His breathing was beginning to increase and she gave him a good squeeze. He let out a groan he tried to stifle as he came, and he squeezed his arms around her. He panted into her neck then brought his hands up to thread in her long thick tresses. He kissed her, his hand sliding up her back, but she could feel he was holding back as she parted from him. She knew what it was. “You can touch me anywhere, Alistair.”

            She brought her hands down and pulled her tunic up over her head, then her hands were at her back unfastening her bra. She was nervous herself, admittedly, but she tried not to let it show as she bared her breasts to him. She took this moment to pull his shirt off and kiss his neck, her lips trailing down his chest.

            “Wait…” She groaned at his request, but stopped all the same. He looked dazed. “I want…” He trailed off as he placed a hand to her breast, the other running through her hair as he pulled her close to him and he kissed his way down her neck, landing his lips to her nipple. She sighed at the contact, ran her hands down his back, and melted at his touch. No man had felt as good to her as Alistair. She’d only been with a handful of other men, but she wasn’t in love with them like she was with him. In love… She never thought she’d admit that to herself, but she was.

            He sucked a good spot and she moaned softly, not wanting to be too loud, but wanted him to know.

            “Alistair, you make me feel so good,” She breathed. She could feel the hard length of him between her legs, and she wanted nothing more than to rip the rest of their clothes off and have him inside her, but she’d wait for him as long as he needed.

            She felt his hands at the tie to her leggings, his breath ragged, and she was almost surprised he took this step. She lifted up onto her knees as he slid them along with her underwear down her thighs. She sat back to let him take them all the way off her and he paused as he looked her over.

            “Maker… You’re beautiful, Ohahn. You’re stunning.” He breathed heavily, and she couldn’t get over the way he said those words to her. She loved when he called her beautiful. She moved forward, unlacing his pants and he quickly helped her push them off of himself, looking down to see his thick length hard and ready for her.

            His hands were shaking slightly and she grabbed them as she hovered over him. “Calm down.” She smiled as she slowly kissed him. She was ripe with anticipation just as he was, but she tried to slow this down for him, tried to keep the pace just right. She wanted this to be perfect for him. She pressed his hands to her breasts and he kneaded them softly. She bit her lip, head lolling back as she let the blissful feeling of his touch wash over her. She seared his lips with another heated kiss. “Are you ready?” She asked breathily.

            “Yes, Maker, please,” He groaned.

            She grabbed him and lowered herself slowly onto him, letting out a breathy gasp as she took him in. He moaned softly and her breath quickened when she took him deeper, then held her position for a moment. She whimpered, body trembling as she slid up on him then back down, while  his hands were on her hips to help her movements along. Her moans were quiet; she was trying to keep their noises to themselves for only them to enjoy, when he began to move, picking her up and laying her gently down onto her bed roll.

            She let her legs fall wide for him as he pushed inside her, kissing her lips as he thrust in and out of her. His pace was a little off until he found his rhythm, but she didn’t care. It felt good to have him sliding in and out of her. She moaned his name into his ear as he kissed her neck and she felt his hand trailing down her stomach, touching that spot that made her breath hitch in her throat. The surprise that he’d take this step caused her to jerk her hips, but she could vaguely remember a conversation Zevran had initiated around the campfire upon learning of Alistair’s inexperience. Though Alistair was protesting, sweetly blushing, he’d remembered a thing or two from that conversation.

            She wrapped her legs around his waist pulling him in closer, deeper, and she bucked her hips at the sensation. He was quickly losing his breath as he pounded into her, and when he felt her walls clenching at him, bringing him deeper, he lost it, stilling inside of her as his whole body tensed. He let out a loud groan unintentionally, and he could hear her holding her breath. He relaxed over her, both of them breathing heavily.

            They rolled over onto their sides, holding each other close, kissing their way down from their high. She wanted to tell him how she felt about him, but she couldn’t bring herself to utter the words. He was smiling at her however, and she closed her eyes, knowing that for some reason her eyes seemed to betray her when she was around him.

            “I saw that,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her freckled cheek. She shook her head, listening to him chuckle, and ignored the thundering of her own heart as she eased her mouth back over his.

            After a while of soft kisses she lay beside him, soaking up how good he made her feel. He let out a gust of a breath, chuckling softly to himself.

            “I was so nervous… Thank you for… For being patient and… Not ever making fun of me.” He muttered, and she leaned up on her elbow to see him blushing.

            “Everyone has a first time… I think it’s sweet that…” She pursed her lips, not wanting to finish what she’d thought. He always had a way of making her feel so at ease around him that she found herself wanting to share her thoughts with him despite never doing that with anyone.

            “Go on,” he goaded, his thumb stroking her cheek.

            She shook her head, about to lay back down when he turned on his side to face her and he held her close. “Tell me, or I’ll stay here all night leaving a very awkward morning after around the campfire.”

            She chuckled, a rosy hue finding her cheeks at being pressed flush against him in such an intimate moment. She didn’t hang around afterwards, didn’t engage in this kind of behavior, but it felt so right with Alistair. She dreaded the thought of him leaving her tent and sleeping alone tonight.

            “I just… think it’s sweet that you waited for someone…”

            “Someone that I love?” He uttered and she stilled in his grasp, swallowing hard as she found his honey brown eyes. “Yes… I love you… I understand if you don’t want to say it back but… I do… I’ve never felt anything like this before and I… I’m pretty sure this is it… I love you.”

            “I’ve never felt like this before either…” She muttered, but she didn’t know _how_ to say it back. The feeling scared her, immensely. She never thought she’d care this much about someone, especially in so short a time. But with Alistair it already felt like they’d known each other for so long.

            “That’s good enough for me right now. I don’t need you running away scared, because that’s what it looks like you want to do.”

            “Yes… and no. We shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t help myself. I want to be with you.”

            He grinned, which caused a slow smile to spread on her face at seeing his happiness. He closed the small gap between them, pressing his lips to hers. “Don’t say anything else. This night couldn’t have been more perfect.”


	4. Is that my shirt?

            It was still early, birds chirping at camp, the cool crispness of the night before was still lingering. The sun had barely risen, and though she would’ve rather have gotten more than a few hours of sleep, she really only had herself to blame. She let out a yawn as she began her walk back to camp from the river, having taken a quick dip in the frigid waters.

            She was wringing out her golden-brown hair, smiling softly to herself. Despite knowing the dire future to come, she couldn’t help how content she felt. Her late night trysts with Alistair had been fun when they finally started sleeping with each other, partaking in licking the lamppost and trying to be quiet about it. It was a challenge, mostly for him, but she felt they’d been successful in hiding their romantic involvement.

            However, when she got back to camp she stilled when she saw Alistair emerge from his tent… wearing her shirt. It was one of her larger sleep shirts, she liked sleeping in the oversized garments, but despite how big it was on her own tall frame, it was rather snug on Alistair’s. However, he didn’t seem like he’d noticed, and he strolled his way over towards her, goofy smile set upon his face.

            “Good morning,” he said to her, glancing behind him to see no one was around and kissed her cheek quickly. “Everything alright, darling?”

            “Is that my shirt?” She asked quietly, taking a step back only because she saw Wynne up and around, a few of their other companions joining her around the campfire as they began to get breakfast started.

            “What?” He glanced down at himself then began to chuckle. “Oh. I was wondering why this was so snug!” He laughed a little louder and she pursed her lips.

            “Take it off!” She whispered harshly, holding a hand up to her forehead feeling her cheeks beginning to heat up as her palm settled against it.

            “Hah! Wait now? Are you mad? No one will even notice it’s yours! I’ll blame the tightness on eating all that cheese when we last visited Redcliffe.”

            She shook her head. “How did you manage to take my shirt?”

            He shrugged, “I must’ve accidentally grabbed it while you kicked me out of your tent.” He wriggled his brows and she smacked his arm.

            “I did not ‘kick’ you out.” She tried to deny.

            “You practically did! All that was missing was a boot to my arse.” He laughed loudly once more. “I’m just kidding around, Ohahn. I’ll go change, but I really don’t think—”

            “Why are you wearing Ohahn’s shirt?” Their attention turned towards Leliana who was grinning at the two of them.

            Ohahn narrowed her eyes at Alistair. “Yes, Alistair, I was curious about that as well.”

            “Oh, you know. Must’ve gotten mixed up in the wash.” He shrugged nonchalantly, trying to play it off.

            “Did you not realize how much smaller it was then your other shirts?” The bard asked, and Ohahn could see she wasn’t buying the story. Probably because she already knew. Leliana always seemed to have an uncanny knack of knowing everything that was going on. “How silly.” She winked at the two of them and Ohahn let out a groan when she had slunk away.

            “No one will notice,” Ohahn dryly responded.

            “That’s not fair. She eerily knows everything.” Alistair put his hands up. “Wait, wait, don’t be mad at me, please! It’s silly!”

            “I’m not mad,” She chuckled, “But I would rather everyone not know for now.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t want them thinking we aren’t focused on our mission.”

            He scoffed, “How would they think that? We’ve gathered so many forces already, and done so much. Don’t worry. I’ll try to be more careful.”

            “It’s agonizing.” She said.

            He frowned, “What is?” He must’ve thought he did something wrong again.

            “Wanting to kiss you, and wanting to not care that they’re around.” She said quietly and she watched him swallow.

            “Oh uh, right.” He ran his hand through his hair, “Is this some sort of test I need to pass? Because if you keep talking like that I’ll completely forget we’re at camp and kiss you in front of everyone.”

            She chuckled softly, patting him on the shoulder. “I just wanted you to know that I’m not upset with you.”

            “No, you just like to drive me crazy.”

            She smirked, “That’s fun too.”


	5. Want to hear a secret?

            Lying in bed, Alistair let out a sigh as he watched candlelight flickering across the ceiling. It’d been an extremely long day, the Landsmeet had dragged on for hours, and he honestly hadn’t expected the outcome at all. He was King. And he’d killed the man that had betrayed Duncan and Cailan.

            Should he feel bad that he’d killed his father’s best friend? It was a father he hadn’t known, sure, but he was still his father. Though the man had already betrayed Maric’s memory by allowing his eldest son and the previous King to be murdered.

            He didn’t know what to think, but he knew one thing was certain; he had no idea how to be a King and he had no idea what he was going to do. Eamon had already sat him down, having been the one to proclaim to the Landsmeet council that Alistair was Maric’s son and therefore should be next in line as the rightful heir to the throne.

            He’d plied him with all kinds of scenarios about what he had to do, what he should do, but the one that burned the most was his suggestion at finding a proper Queen. One that could bear him an heir, or at least give him a better chance at one. Somehow, though she wasn’t there, he knew Ohahn was thinking of this. She hadn’t come to his room like he had expected her to, and he hadn’t seen her since the Landsmeet ended.

            He knew she was going through a lot as well. Ending Howe after what he’d done to her family was also weighing heavily on her. He knew, especially since he’d just gotten his revenge, that it did nothing to make the hole inside disappear. It didn’t heal anything, it didn’t make him feel any better, because at the end of the day Duncan was still gone, and so was her family.

            It made him sick to think about not being with her, and he hoped that she wasn’t thinking of that either. Duty be damned, he was King, and he could have whomever he wanted, and it would always be her. He got up, not bothering to put a shirt on despite the cold that creeped upon him once he was out from under the warm blankets.

            He didn’t know where she’d be at, but knowing her it was somewhere bitterly cold and somewhere she could look out in the distance and stare off into the horizon. There was a balcony here somewhere and he made his way in that direction finally opening the doors and seeing her form, blanket wrapped tightly around her.

            She looked tired as she turned to face him, her golden brown hair was tucked inside the blanket with pieces falling out to frame her face.

            “You didn’t come to bed…” He uttered, not knowing what else to say in this moment. She looked away, trying to shield her eyes from him, because she knew he could guess at what was on her mind when he looked into them. For someone so quiet her eyes told him everything he needed to know.

            “You’re King now, I didn’t think it’d be proper.”

            He was startled at her remark. She had said before how she didn’t care about him being Maric’s son, what had changed about that now? “What does that matter?”

            “I know what you and Eamon spoke about. My being your ‘Queen’ won’t help your position. I’m a Grey Warden from a murdered family. The stigma alone looks bad enough.”

            “Since when do you care what others think, Ohahn?” He was frustrated, why was she saying these things.

            “I don’t, but you have a greater duty now and I wouldn’t exactly be helpful with it.” Her tone was flat, empty, and he hadn’t heard her speak like this for quite some time. When they were together she was warmer, more open with him, affectionate when they were alone. Now she was cold and distant; she was pushing him away.

            “This isn’t about me, it’s about you, isn’t it?”

            “No, it’s not.” She denied and he finally sidled up next to her, skin heated from the simmering anger to where he no longer felt the cold. He turned her to face him and he saw it in her eyes, the flash of the fear.

            “I don’t care about your status, our status, what have you. I want you to be with me Ohahn, I love you.” He watched her swallow.

            “I never wanted children,” She said and his brow furrowed in confusion.

            “What does this have to do with anything?”

            “Eamon says it has everything to do with it. He means well, he’s not an awful man, but he made his sentiments clear, Alistair. You’re expected to bear a child now, an heir to the throne, and even if I wasn’t a Grey Warden I likely wouldn’t be able to give you that, and it’s not something that I would have wanted to give you anyway.” She said and it was a hard blow to receive. He’d thought of someday having children, if only because that seemed to be expected and the way things worked, but he hadn’t thought of that after becoming a Grey Warden.

            “It _doesn’t_ matter,” he countered, “I likely can’t have children anyway. I want you, Ohahn, I don’t want anyone else.” He could see she was still holding something back, the fear of what they had. It was real, it was so real and he didn’t want to lose this. “Want to hear a secret?”

            Her brow furrowed as she looked up at him. “Now’s not the time for your silly games…” She muttered, but he tilted her chin up, sliding his thumb along her chin.

            “My secret is that I’m terrified too. I’m scared by how much I love you, how terrifying it is to lose you, but I’m more scared of losing you in this way. You love me, I know you do, I can see it in your eyes when you look at me. Don’t push me away now. We’ve been through too much to let it all go away. I apologize for what Eamon said to you, but I don’t care about his concerns. They’ll just have to find someone else when we… When we leave this place.” And that scared him more than anything. The thought of the calling coming for them. “I want to spend the rest of my days with you.”

            “I do too,” Her voice was low and he let out a sigh of relief at hearing it. “I do love you, but I’m terrified too. I don’t know how to be a Queen, Alistair.”

            “You really think I know how to be a King?” He smarted off, and watched that beautiful smile spread on her lips. Just for him.

            “You’re freezing,” she said as she took her blanket and wrapped it around his broad shoulders.

            “I didn’t think things through when I left the room.”

            She wrapped her arms around his back, pressing herself to him as she settled her head against his chest. “At least you remembered to put pants on this time.”

            “More like, I was lucky I was already wearing them.” He was startled when she laughed rather loudly, it wasn’t often that she’d laugh quite loudly like that. He wrapped the blanket around her too as he hugged her to his body. “I love you, Ohahn. Let’s see this through together.”

            “I suppose I’ll give it a shot.”

            “You know this means we have to get married. The ceremony will more than likely be elaborate.” He heard her groan. “They’ll probably put you in some huge unnecessary gown, I’ll probably be in some ridiculous ceremonial armor. Oh, it’ll be grand. Maybe our first dance will be the Remigold.” He heard her laugh again and he couldn’t help but grin.

            “You’re ridiculous.” He felt her lips press to his neck. “Just think how fun it’ll be to take everything off afterwards.”

            He stilled, a sly smile catching his lips. “If that’s the case I don’t think we’ll even make it through the ceremony.”

            Another laugh sounded from her and he couldn’t get enough. “I love you so much, Alistair.” And he’d never get enough of hearing that from her either.


	6. Are you crazy?

            Numb. It was how she felt since finding out from Riordan what had to be done to fell the archdemon. She knew what she had to do, the duty that she had to fulfill. She may not have been the best Grey Warden; she could’ve left Duncan and Ostagar behind once he’d helped her get out of Highever, but she hadn’t and she had stayed. She had an oath to fulfill, and now that she’d had her revenge this was the last step.

            As much as she loved Alistair she knew that this was the right call. She loved him so much, it was frightening. And she loved him so much she almost was willing to agree to Morrigan’s deal, but she refused before she could even think of saying yes.

            There was an agenda there, she knew it, there had to be one, and that was why Flemeth pushed the woman to be a part of their journey. She didn’t hate Morrigan, she just didn’t trust her, and now what little trust there was had diminished.

            _‘Don’t you want to live?’_ echoed in her head over and over again, and the answer was yes, but not at an unknown cost. What if a baby with an old god’s soul meant future destruction? What if it made a future blight worse?

            She knew this was the right call. She’d make sure Alistair was nowhere near the archdemon and she’d take the final blow with honor should Riordan fail. It still made her feel numb, like all she’d come to care for was going to be ripped from her fingers. She didn’t think she’d care about the people she’d journeyed with this past year, but she really had. They’d become like a second family, one that brought her comfort. And Alistair. She was sick at the thought of what her death would do to him, but he had to understand that this was the right call to make.

            She wrung her hands together, the numbness beginning to wear off and the sinking feeling that something wrong was going on was hitting her. She attributed it to what lay ahead and their coming siege on Denerim. She idly stood by the window, watching the wind blow through trees, swaying and almost calming. It would’ve been nice had her mind not been racing.

            She heard the knob turn slowly and watched as Alistair entered the room, hair dampened, and eyes bloodshot. He looked startled when he saw her, and he also looked sick which worried her.

            “Is everything alright?” She asked, not moving from her spot.

            “Er, yes. Everything is fine.” He said, and he looked like he had no idea where to go, or what to do.

            “Are you sure?” He heard the concern laced in her voice and he shook his head once more, knowing that the question he was about to ask was going to give him the answer he expected and he was terrified.

            “Ohahn… What are your thoughts on Morrigan’s Dark Ritual?” He finally uttered, forcing himself to look at her. Her brows furrowed, a flash of anger in her eyes, but she kept her composure for the time being.

            “She spoke to you of it?”

            “Yes.”

            “I told her no. We don’t know what the repercussions will be. What happens with this child could be far worse than a blight and the archdemon.”

            “But it could save us.” He almost pleaded, but kept himself from doing so.

            “Alistair, there is no saving me. I would not have you accompany me for the final assault.”

            “You can’t just make this decision on your own!” He was frustrated; he thought she had shed the cavalier, reckless attitude she’d had when she was hellbent on revenge.

            “I can. You made me in charge of this. I will see it through to the end. I will take the final blow if Riordan is unable, and that is all I will say on this matter. It’s done.”

            His lips parted, breathless, “Are you crazy?” He uttered, “You would throw yourself away? You would throw us away? You can’t keep me from being there!”

            “I can and I will!” She raised her voice.

            “I already did it!” He shouted back and he felt like vomiting, the look in her eyes was full of confusion which was slowly changing to a look he hadn’t seen yet. There was a growing ache and pain; heartbreak, and he saw her lips trembling as she clamped her jaw shut.

            “Explain,” She spoke, the restraint on her voice was frightening.

            “Morrigan came to me… And she told me that you refused to do it, refused to ask me,” his voice was breaking, wavering as the tears were trying to escape again. “I knew I couldn’t change your mind, and I… I just couldn’t stomach the thought of losing you like this, because I know you, and I know what you’ll do,” the tears finally slipped from his eyes once more. He’d taken a bath after he’d done the ritual, trying to wash away any scent or any sign that he’d betrayed the woman he loved, and he’d cried in the bath while trying to wash away his regret. “I’m sorry.”

            “How could you?” He looked away, he couldn’t stand to see the pain in her eyes and the anger that was consuming her. “We’re through,” those words cut deep and his eyes shot to hers in an instant.

            “What?” He couldn’t believe she’d just said that. “Ohahn, wait—” He moved towards her and she shoved him hard, causing him to stumble backwards into the dresser, hearing a crack as it nearly buckled under the weight of him and the solidness of the wall behind it.

            “I said we’re through,” She growled, and she made for the door but he caught her wrist before she got too far. She stood toe to toe with him, more ferocious than he’d ever seen her in battle. He swallowed hard, watching as a tear slipped from her eye. He never thought he’d see that, and he had caused her this. “Let. Go.” She said low.

            “Please, just listen to me. Please!” He pleaded and she shook her head.

            “You have nothing more to say to me.” He couldn’t take the look in her eyes any longer and let her go, letting her leave the room in a heated flash. His face fell into his palms wetness touching them, and he slammed his fist into the dresser successfully breaking the wood as his fist went through the top. He hurt, he betrayed her trust. He would never be able to forgive himself for going behind her back like this.

            Sobs racked his body as he braced himself against the wall, his back shuddering as he fell to his knees. His heart was broken, and he knew it was his fault. He needed to fix this, but he didn’t know how he could even begin to repair this.

            Ohahn slowed down the hall, placing her hand against it to brace herself. She tried to numb herself like she had after she’d left her parents to their death. She took a breath, almost unable to breathe it hurt so bad, and when she looked up she spotted Morrigan who froze when she saw her.

            For a moment time stood still as they stared at each other, and then the anger bubbled within her once again and she charged the mage.

            “You!” She growled as she dove at her and struck her but felt the impact of a hastily thrown up barrier against her hand.

            “Ohahn, listen to me!” Morrigan tried to plead, feeling part of the impact of Ohahn’s jab as she placed a hand to her own cheek.

            “No!” Ohahn shouted as she threw the woman against the wall. Morrigan tried to fend her off, but she was almost feral, and her strength far outweighed her own. Ohahn’s fingers had found their way around her throat and she tried to pry her arms away but found she couldn’t. She finally settled on the only thing she could think of and she launched her backwards with her magic. Ohahn hit the wall and clutched her seared shoulder, then flung herself at her again but was stopped by the arms around her midsection which had pinned her arms to her sides.

            “Kadan, stop this foolishness! You are letting anger get the better of you!” Sten shouted into her ear.

            “That witch stabbed me in the back!”

            “I did what was needed to save your life!” Morrigan tried to reason.

            “You didn’t do it for me!” Ohahn screamed and their companions were quickly forming around them in the hallway. “You and Flemeth planned this from the start!” She tried to get out of Sten’s hold on her, but he was still holding tight. “You will rain fire and hell down upon us all!”

            “Ohahn, what are you talking about?” Leliana asked as she ran in between them.

            The warrior finally caught her breath and she could see Alistair out the corner of her eyes and she tried not to look at him.

            She calmed down and felt Sten’s arms loosen around her and she moved towards Morrigan once again. He grabbed her shoulder and she pointed a finger in the woman’s face.

            “If you ever try something with this plan, if you _ever_ come back to harm _him_ ,” she pointed at Alistair, “I will end you. I promise you that.” She shrugged out of Sten’s grip and made her way down the hall. “If you aren’t gone by the morning I will kill you.” She threatened her one last time and tried to leave quickly before anyone caught her. She could see Alistair trying to do the same, but was swiftly stopped by Oghren with his axe and Wynne with her staff.

            Sten wrapped his arms around her once again. “Let go of me, Sten!” She yelled, but he held fast.

            “This way, Sten,” Zevran motioned and he followed the elf as Leliana ushered them into a room.

            “We have a right to know what is going on, Kadan,” The Qunari barked.

            Ohahn glanced at Alistair whose eyes were glassy and redder than before. “It’s between Alistair, Morrigan, and I and no one else.” She made to leave but Sten blocked the door. “Move out of the way.” She ordered and he refused to budge.

            “Ohahn, please calm down. Sit and let me heal you.” Wynne said calmly and Ohahn looked down to see her shoulder was burnt and bleeding. She hadn’t even noticed. She let out a shaky breath and shook her head before Wynne put her hand up. “The two of you are not leaving until we all receive some sort of explanation.

            “You’re acting crazier than a nug on lyrium, Hahn.” Oghren said. They looked at Alistair who basically looked sick to his stomach leaning against the wall, not knowing what to do with himself. Her heart was shattering to pieces the more she looked at him. “And lover boy looks like he’s about to throw up his dinner.”

            She heard a lock click on a door and then saw Leliana lock the main door.

            “Whatever you tell us will stay with us.” She said to her. “We are not only your companions we are your friends. You can trust us with anything.”

            “We deserve to know the circumstances behind your outburst, Kadan. If we are to follow you into battle we must know that both of your minds are sound. We have followed you thus far.”

            One way or another they weaseled the truth out of the two of them in muttered responses and vague explanations. Ohahn was tightlipped about most of it, which left Alistair who was already vulnerable to explain what he’d done. Slowly the others left them to each other, the quiet was deafening and uncomfortable as it filled the room.

            “Please,” his voice was a whisper, soft and broken, “tell me what I can do to fix this…”

            She swallowed, trying to prevent the tears that wanted to slip from her own eyes from falling. “You can’t.”

            “I have to, I can’t just let this be it!” He begged her, down on his knees and desperate.

            “You have no choice anymore.” She knelt down and seared her lips to his, one last time, one last kiss. “Do not follow me to Denerim. You won’t be needed.” She felt her heart ache as he squeezed his eyes shut, tears slipping from them once again. “I’m sorry,” she could barely breathe, “but I can’t forgive this.” And she was gone, out the door, and he feared that he would never see her again.


	7. I'd like it if you stayed.

            There was pain everywhere it seemed; her face and back most of all. Eyes closed and still half asleep on her stomach, her thoughts began to swim and desperately try to recollect the most recent events. They’d made their way to defeat the archdemon, and it felt like it had taken a lifetime. It had finally come to an end, the past year culminating down to that one last stand. They were lucky they had the help they did, but much of it was still a blur.

            She stirred slightly, but stilled once more when a jolt went through her back. It started to come back to her, the archdemon slashing at her, tearing half her best armor away in a single swipe. She was lucky that what she had had managed to lessen the blow, but judging by the way her back felt those talons had most certainly clawed their way across her flesh. It was mainly three spots on her back on her left side, maybe a spot on the back of her arm, and she also felt a throb across her jaw. The next thing she recalled was feeling out of sorts before she plunged her sword into the infernal creature which resulted in an electrifying pain that seared through her being.

            It was certainly black after that, and she wondered how long she’d been out. She slowly opened her eyes; the room was dark, a faint splash of moonlight filtered in through the curtains she assumed. The candle had snuffed itself out, recently, and its smoke wafted into the air. She couldn’t figure out if it was scented or if it had just rained outside. The air was cool however, and she could feel it chilling her heated back which was uncovered. She was wearing pants however, and there was a blanket strewn over her lower back.

            She stilled, how had she missed the familiar figure? His head rested on the bed as he sat in a chair beside it. Oh, how long had he been sitting there? She could hear his soft breaths, one arm outstretched towards hers whose fingers must’ve slipped from her own as he slept. She felt the nasty feeling of anger and betrayal try to rear its ugly head and she tried to send it away.

            She didn’t want to be angry with him anymore. She just wanted to be happy that he was alive. And she was, she truly was, but part of her was still hurt that he’d betrayed her trust and sought out Morrigan for that Maker forsaken dark ritual. She had refused, but Morrigan had found Alistair and convinced him to do it herself.

            It stung; more than she cared to admit, and would never admit. She knew it’d take a while still to get over it, and she wanted more than anything to _be_ over it. She found his hand, sliding her palm over the back to curl her fingers and squeeze softly, holding it in her own. There was a sharp inhale, and his voice was groggy and confused as he came out of his slumber. Eyes were finally opening, tinges of sleep still touching them, until it dawned on him that she was awake.

            “Ohahn?” He asked groggily, groaning as he tried to move his body. “Ohahn!” he woke a little more. “You’re awake,” he rasped, sitting up. His joints popped and cracked and he let out another groan as he tried to straighten himself. “Are you alright?”

            “I suppose.” She watched him carefully, could see that he was unsure if she even wanted him around. They’d fought before they’d come to Denerim. She’d told him she didn’t want him to come along with them, and it was partly her own hurt and partly because she knew with him as King that he shouldn’t be going with her anyway. She had told him to stay in Redcliffe, more ordered than anything, but he hadn’t listened. She knew he was with a second group that was travelling to Denerim. Knew he couldn’t stay away; that he wouldn’t stay away.

            “I’m… Glad that you’re okay,” he spoke softly, unsure, and she ached to have him feel comfortable with her as he had before. She knew she was difficult, quiet and cold to most, but Alistair made her feel warm and alive. Despite the pain she felt, she knew deep down his reasons for doing the dark ritual, and that love had scared her. He loved her so much he was willing to risk whatever Morrigan had planned for them. She wished he hadn’t, what if Morrigan had betrayed them all along for this? For some dark and unknown plan?

            It didn’t matter. They were alive, the archdemon was dead. For now that had to suffice.

            “I… I should go.” He finally muttered, her silence had finally gotten to him.

            “I’d like it if you stayed,” she said, their eyes catching and the hope had returned to his honeyed hues.

            “You mean that?”

            “Yes.”

            “But… What about…”

            She quieted him, “Let’s not talk about this now… I just want to feel you beside me. We have time to talk another day.”

            “I’m sorry… I just… I love you.”

            “I love you too.” She squeezed his hand. “Lie with me. Please.”

            He smiled and when he crawled into the bed beside her she couldn’t help but smile with him. “I missed that smile.”

            “It’s only for you,” she said and he pressed his lips to hers before they finally settled down to sleep.


	8. It's so beautiful.

            Alistair fumbled with the items in his hand, glancing down and wondering for the thousandth time if Ohahn would like it or not. It’d been a whirlwind since she’d been able to slay the archdemon, and her recovery had been slow and painful, not that she’d admit to it. It didn’t help that he wasn’t able to stay by her side as he’d been whisked away more times than he cared for by Eamon and Teagan in order to get himself prepared to be the King of Denerim.

            He had absolutely no idea what he was doing, and he was slightly terrified. Would he rather be out fighting darkspawn than become King? He mulled that over, head bobbing side to side. He wasn’t sure what was worse at this point; fed to darkspawn or fed to the nobility that had treated him like he was a waste of space his entire life. Isolde glided by, giving him a pleasant nod. Now that she knew it was confirmed he wasn’t really Eamon’s bastard child, just Maric’s, she was a little more pleasant with him.

            He nodded back to her, small smile, hoping she wasn’t about to come and talk to him, and he was thankful when she continued on her way. She had other matters to attend to it seemed, and he was grateful. He had butterflies nearly making him sick, and he continued to slide the objects in his palm around with his fingers.

            He knew things were still shaky between him and Ohahn. She would never forgive him for what he did to her, going behind her back about the Dark Ritual still made him sick, and despite the pain it had caused her he’d do it over and over again just to see her alive. He was glad that she was willing to look past it, but he wanted more than anything to not see the look of betrayal in her eyes when she glanced his way.

            It was why he was in such turmoil about asking her this question. Was it time? Did _she_ need more time and space from him? She would pull him close when he entered her chambers, the tending ladies of the castle frowning their way when they came to turn the room in the morning. It’s not as though they were chaste in their relationship, but they all seemed to be too concerned with propriety when it came to him being King. The coronation would be happening soon, but it was on everyone’s tongues on if there’d be a wedding or not.

            He quickly got up, heading to her chambers and finding that she was gone. She hadn’t exactly left the room much, as she was still having a hard time getting around with her injuries so he was curious where she’d gone off to. A guard passed by in the hallway.

            “Excuse me,” he waved him over and the guard immediately stood up straighter and half bowed, beginning to look conflicted.

            “Oh uh, my King? Um. I…” He stammered and Alistair waved a hand at the man.

            “Please, don’t worry about that,” He chuckled. “Have you seen Ohahn?”

            “Ah, Lady Cousland? The Hero of Ferelden?” He had stars in his eyes and Alistair grinned.

            “Yes, The Hero of Ferelden. Is she alright?”

            “I… Believe I saw her in the garden.”

            “Thank you.”

            “Oh, no thank you, my uh… Ahem… Is it true that you and Lady Cousland are to be married? I’ve heard rumors.”

            Alistair smiled softly. “I hope she’ll have me.”

            “You are to be King,” he said.

            “Ohahn is her own woman.”

            “Oh, right. Of course. I meant no offense.”

            Alistair laughed patting the man on his shoulder. “It’s quite alright. I’ll leave you to your duties then.”

            “Thank you, my King… I mean.”

            He gave the guard a smile and waved to him again as he made his way towards the stairs. He didn’t know how he was going to get used to that. Would it be horrible if he asked Ohahn to run away with him? He let out a sigh as he descended the stairs. That wouldn’t be very grown up of him to do, but he felt too young to be in this position anyway.

            He shook those thoughts as he found the garden, looking for her tall form and not yet spotting her. He rounded some bushes and managed to spot her, she was slowly pacing, a small limp to her step. The archdemon had nearly slashed her down to her bones after she’d delivered the final blow. She had three claw marks on her back, the uppermost one extended across her shoulder and onto her arm. Then there was one snarled along her jaw. She mentioned that it still burned, like she could feel its claws still searing her flesh. He hoped with the passing of more time it’d be easier for her. He’d never forget the sight of it ripping through her armor like it was paper.

            She looked his way, a soft smile on her lips as she straightened, trying to hide the cringe on her stoic features. He slowly made his way towards her, standing in front of her. It was still a little awkward for them, he wasn’t sure how to act around her, and she seemed to be in the same predicament. He wanted her around more than anything, but he didn’t want to push her if she wasn’t ready to be back with him completely. He fumbled with the items in his hand again, and began to chuckle lightly.

            “How are you feeling?” He asked her, tucking his hand into his pocket to discard the tokens for now.

            She ran a hand through her golden brown curls, he didn’t get to see it down very often during their journey, and he loved seeing it free from her usual updo. He wanted to run his hands through those soft curls, wanted to pull her in for a kiss, but he was just so unsure. He hated this feeling, he wanted everything to go back to the way it had been before.

            “Better, somewhat,” She answered, glancing down at the ground and trying to avert his gaze. She did that when she was trying to hide what she was really feeling from him. He had a good read on what was on her mind because of those stormy blue hues.

            “Lies,” he chuckled at her. “You’re still miserable…” He felt a little defeated; he knew it’d take more time for her to forgive him, but he had dared to hope that he could ask her what he’d been dying to ask her.

            He felt her hand on his as she pulled him back to her. She leaned up to kiss him softly on the cheek. “Alistair… It hurts still, yes… That, and the injuries… But… I want to be with you more than I can bear to be apart from you. Pain and all.”

            “Is this us finally talking about this?” He asked tentatively.

            “Yes.” Her fingers slid to his palm as she brought their clasped hands to rest between their chests. She stepped closer to him and his heart skipped a beat. She was looking at him so clearly right now, no sadness and no betrayal. He had longed to see the way she used to look at him. “I love you, Alistair.”

            “Even though I’m to be King?” He said, and she chuckled softly.

            “Even though you’re to be King.” She confirmed.

            “Then… Will you marry me?” He saw her lips part slightly, and he grew nervous. “You know, because I love you and um… so… I won’t have to endure this Kingly business all by myself?” He could see her swallow hard; they’d talked about getting married after the Landsmeet, but all those talks had been thrown out the window after what he’d done. He decided he was already in too deep anyway, and he dug back into his pocket for the two rings he’d had made after things had calmed down. One of them were laurels that wrapped around to form a ring, as close as he could get to the Cousland laurels, her heraldry. The other was another simple band slim with tiny jewels of deep blue and grey. Something to match a rainstorm, the way he’d always thought of her eyes. It was something simple to stack next to the other.

            She stared down at both of the pieces sitting in his palm. “It’s so beautiful,” She said softly, and he felt a wave of relief. She wasn’t one for jewelry, anything fancy really, he was so worried that she wouldn’t like them almost as much as he was worried about being rejected. He had hope though, a swell of confidence was beginning to fill him.

            “Ohahn… Will you marry me?” He asked again. “Please? Ferelden will burn down if it’s only me on the throne.”

            He heard the quiet softness of her laughter and he smiled at the sound. “Yes.” She whispered, then nodded as she tore her eyes away from his palm, looking at his face. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

            He felt the relief wash over him, trying to keep himself from jumping up and down in joy at this very moment. He was able to slip the rings on her finger even though his fingers were shaking, glad to see that he’d measured her ring finger correctly when she was sleeping. He was going to hug her, but then thought better, knowing her back was still tender, but she eased into his arms instead. Gingerly bringing her arms up around his broad shoulders and planting a kiss to his lips. He gently let his arms wrap around her lower back, trying to avoid her scars. He couldn’t be more happier than this.

            “I know things won’t be the same just yet…” He said, bringing his hand to rest on her cheek. “But I love you so much, Ohahn, and I promise you—”

            “I know,” She slid her palm over his cheek as well. “I love you too much to let it come between us any longer.”

            He smiled sadly, still wishing that it hadn’t come to it. “You’re here… You’re alive.” He kissed her again, lightly running his fingers into her hair. “You said yes.” He felt breathless, and that for once things were going right for them.

            “I did.” She confirmed, and he smiled back at her, loving the way she was looking at him.

            “You did.”


	9. The Wandering Queen

            The cold had whipped at her back, but she was used to it by now. Truth be told she didn’t mind the cold. She used to sit outside on the castle walls during the colder nights of Firstfall and even Haring and Wintermarch just letting the snow fall around her. Oftentimes the frigidity of the weather was compared to her demeanor. She didn’t think she was cold, she just didn’t like to show others what she was thinking, let alone feeling. She admired those that could be so passionate.

            Sometimes Ohahn was envious of those who were able to express themselves so easily, but most of the time she was content with who she was. It didn’t really bother her; she was just more bothered by why others were so concerned.

            It’d been a little over a year since she’d left Denerim. She’d spent a good six months there before she grew restless, antsy as the nightmares plagued her. She’d begun to think she was hearing the calling, and the relentless pressure in her head drove her to leave in the middle of the night and travel to the Deep Roads. It wasn’t until she’d met Hawke deep in the recesses of that horrible place that she’d allowed the woman to talk her into going back to Alistair.

            She’d helped Hawke and her companions find another way out and while they were at the exit Hawke had told her she should go back; that she shouldn’t just give up and let herself die in here without a fight up top. She had remembered running into the woman in Ostagar. Ohahn herself had been battered and so tired, but they’d run into each other on the bridge as she was heading towards the tower.

            Hawke had fire and determination in those icy silver eyes; there was a reckless hue to them, much the same that she had after losing her family. They were so much alike in that moment without having known who the other was.

            She had bade them farewell, stepping back inside the entrance that led back into the Deep Roads. Suddenly, she had no desire to go back in there, calling or no if that was what was happening. She was going to Weisshaupt.

            It’s where she was coming back from now. She hadn’t found much there, but they had told her that her situation was different. They had no idea how to handle her because no one had ever survived slaying the archdemon. But they gave her a rundown of all the things that Duncan didn’t have a chance to explain to her. She was having residual nightmares, mostly due to the fact that she joined during the Blight. They taught her meditations, and that if she started to hear the singing that was when she should fret.

            She was on the outskirts of Val Dorma when she realized she was being followed. She was awake in her campsite one night, not able to sleep as per usual when she realized there was someone nearby. She quietly got up and headed over to the stream nearby and waited then slunk through the shadows and behind the trees to see if they took the bait. She was pleased to see she was right. Whomever it was, was inexperienced in the art of stealing as well as hunting.

            However, she stilled when she realized it was a young boy. Small, he couldn’t have been ten years old yet. What was he doing out here all by himself? Was he stealing for someone else? Was he just a distraction?

            He was rummaging in her pack when he came across a dagger and he slipped it into his pack and she quickly moved upon him, grabbing the back of his neck. “Little hunter,” She said calmly, “I am taking this opportunity to ask you that you kindly return my dagger.”

            He was still, quiet, but she could feel a storm brewing within him; it was much the same storm she felt within herself. He turned to look at her, his hunter green hues were devoid of feeling and immediately she roused him.

            “You are a child; don’t look at me like that.” She popped him softly on the side of his head and grabbed his pack taking her dagger from it. “What are you doing out here by yourself?” She asked evenly.

            He looked down at the ground, then curled his arms around his legs as he sat back against a tree. He shrugged his small shoulders and continued to look at the ground, beginning to shiver. She rummaged in her own pack as she placed her dagger back inside it and pulled out one of her shirts. It would be too big for him, but at least it’d keep him warmer than the rags he wore.

            “Here,” She tossed it to him. He stared at it, then looked up at her, as if he was warring on whether or not to put it on. He was shivering however and the need to keep warm won out and he pulled it over his head. His hair was a sandy brown and his skin a warm tan, he’d been out on his own for a while she surmised. “What is your name?” He continued to stay quiet, and she now understood how others felt when she was as quiet as she was. “This dagger belonged to my mother. My brother found it when he retook our home. We found out that she was the Seawolf of legend. If I had realized that before we may have understood one another.” He was silent, his green eyes intent upon her. “Alright, little Hunter, have it your way. Sleep by the fire.”

            It took him a while but he finally fell asleep and she took his pack, looking inside. There wasn’t much in there, a few scraps of bread that had begun to turn green on the edges, nuts berries, and a little knife. There was a leather bound journal and two sovereigns. He was a vagabond, there was no one else. She grabbed her pack, took something out and placed it inside his bag. She threw away the bread and grabbed some of her own provisions; some smoked meats and vegetables that were still keeping, and placed them in his pack. She also took three of her five small pouches of gold and placed it in there as well. She may not have been a fan of children, but she wasn’t about to let one die out here by himself if she could help it.

            At some point she managed to doze off and when she awoke she found the boy was gone. She got up and began to stretch her limbs out before she made her way down to the stream to wash up before she moved out. She looked around a little, but deduced he’d left and hadn’t stuck around. She continued on her journey, gathering a few more supplies in Val Dorma before she made her trek down the Imperial Highway. It was going to be a long journey, but no longer than it’d taken her to travel up this way. This time, however, she knew her way better, and so she’d fare better on the return trip.

            Ever since meeting Hawke she was determined to find her way back to Alistair. She felt bad, she didn’t want to leave him and her heart ached every day at the thought of how he more than likely felt betrayed by her actions. She didn’t mean to cause him pain, but she felt she couldn’t stay. She knew now it was a mistake.

            Before she left from the fortress she was also given a few books on lore, but they’d seemed intent upon keeping most of their secrets, and most kept their distance from her. It was unnatural that she’d survived, and they believed blood magic was at work though she wasn’t a mage. She wasn’t about to tell them that yes, magic was at work, but it wasn’t her choice.

            She still burned at Morrigan’s betrayal. When she’d happened upon a trail of hers a month after she’d left the Deep Roads she’d hunted her down. It didn’t end well. She hadn’t meant to stab her, but she was angry and everything came to a head all at once again.

            She stopped at seeing a caravan ahead. It was on fire, and there were about eight men milling about. “Thedas don’t need no Grey Wardens anymore, move along.” One spat at her. Her calm, stoic nature was set into place and she planted her feet sizing them all up. There was a man with a quiver on his back, but his bow was on the ground about a stone’s throw from him. The rest had swords and more than three had them lying on the ground.

            “Where are the people?”

            “They happily relieved themselves of their items and we sent them along. Just like you need to.”

            Ohahn’s hand was resting behind her hip, one of her hidden knives slipping down her vambrace. Quickly she threw the knife at one of the men who’d spoken to her first, and let another knife go hitting that one as well. Blood peppered the air and she took their shock as an opportunity to pull her broadsword from its straps on her back and went after the ones beginning to charge her. She was doing her best to make sure no one had snuck behind her, but she’d forgotten about the archer; sloppy.

            She felt a ripple through the air, and suddenly the rest of the men lurched backwards. She looked over and saw the boy. He was panting now, clutching her mother’s dagger in his left hand ready to defend himself. She rushed over to his side and the men clamored from their spots on the ground and began to run away.

            “Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that. I had the situation under control.”

            He shook his head, “I-I wanted to help.” He sucked in air and she pulled out the extra canteen she’d bought to make up for the one she’d slipped into his pack.

            “Drink,” She gave it to him and he began to suck down the water like he hadn’t drank in days. “Have you ever been in a circle?” His eyes grew wide and he began to back away from her, but she placed her hand on his shoulder as she kneeled down. “Not to worry, I won’t tell.”

            He sheathed her mother’s dagger back into its decorated sheath and looked at it. “Why’d you put this in my pack?”

            She shrugged, “I thought you could use the help. You seemed taken with it.”

            “I was going to sell it.” He said quietly.

            “Are you still going to?”

            He didn’t take a second to start shaking his head. “No.”

            “Then hold on to it. Make sure you put it to good use.” She turned around and laid her broadsword against her back. “Latch that onto my back.” He did as she told him, small fingers fumbling slightly until he’d finally gotten it hooked in. “Are you going to keep following me from a distance?” He looked down at the ground. “Follow at my side.”

            “Why?”

            “Because you’ll die out here otherwise.” She didn’t know why she was telling him to come with her. Maybe some small part of her wanted to look out for him.

            “Where are you going?”

            “Denerim. Where are you from, Hunter?”

            He shrugged, “I’m not sure.”

            “Then tell me when you are. Let’s go.” The two didn’t say much as they made their way down the highway. She would stop only occasionally when she thought he’d needed to. He seemed to be comfortable in silence like she usually was, so she didn’t press the issue. There was much trouble within him, she could see that. She was curious, but as she did not like divulging her own secrets she wasn’t going to press him for his.

            It wasn’t till about a week into their trek and about a week’s worth of travel from Cumberland did he shyly hand one of her books back to her. It was the one about the first blight. “Are you a Grey Warden?” He finally asked. “You were heading from Weisshaupt.”

            “Yes.”

            “Why didn’t you stay there?”

            “I don’t belong with them.” She said simply. “I never felt as though I was truly one of them.”

            “Why did you join?” He asked curiously.

            “I had no choice.”

            “Doesn’t everyone have a choice?”

            “Not always. Life isn’t that simple, young Hunter. You’ve got your fair share of troubles.” She watched him look back at the ground, like he wanted to tell her, but was afraid to.

            “I lost my mom during the blight…” He whispered.

            “What of your father?”

            He shrugged, “I never knew him.”

            “I’m sorry for your loss.”

            “I’m sorry for yours too.” He said softly.

            Every once in a while they’d have a few conversations, but once to Cumberland she’d bartered passage on a boat for the two of them. He seemed wary of so many people, but he hadn’t lit anyone on fire yet so she was fairly certain he was doing alright. They hadn’t spoken more of him being a mage, but she knew they needed to.

            Once they’d made it to Jader and docked there for a few days she’d rouse the truth from him. She paid for a room at the Inn, keeping her hood up so no one would recognize her in these parts, and brought them up to their room. She set her packs down and unlatched her sword from her back, settling it to the floor beside her small bed. Hunter, as she’d begun to call him, settled onto the other small mattress, pressing his hands to it, as if he hadn’t seen a real bed before. They’d had cots on the boat, but apparently it wasn’t as grand as an actual mattress was.

            “Tell me, Hunter, when did you come into your abilities?” He immediately looked at her, as if it had become an unspoken rule between the two that they wouldn’t speak of this. “I need to know how well trained you are, if you are at all.”

            “I’m fine. I don’t use them if I can help it.”

            “Do you have control?”

            “A little…”

            “I met a Qunari woman in my journeys north. She was a shy woman, but she had much the same abilities that you have, the power to manipulate her energy around her and harness it forward. I think you could become a Knight Enchanter.”

            “I don’t want to go to the circle!” He immediately cried, tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes.

            “I wasn’t suggesting you do so.”

            “Momma said if anyone knew they’d take me to a circle! She said it would be bad! She said it’d be worse for me because they wouldn’t be able to look after me in a Shem’s prison!”

            She raised her brows at that. So he was elf-blooded then? She’d simply thought him to be human. “Calm down,” She shushed him and made her way over towards him, placing her hand on the top of his head. What did one do to comfort a child? She was no good at this. She tried to think of what her father would do, but she was such a calm, hard headed child, there wasn’t much they had to do to keep her calm since she didn’t overreact, but Fergus… Well there was more than once that Fergus needed calming down.

            It was as if her father himself had guided her hand to smooth his mussed hair and gently pat his back. “My father used to tell me, ‘look, pup, you needn’t fret about little things as there will always be something bigger to worry about. Always hold your head up high in the face of a challenge. No one can defeat you more than yourself.’ I did not understand that until I had to leave him to his death. Every problem I ever faced before that ceased to exist having to leave him and my mother to die. Do not fret over being a mage, or being elf-blooded. Can I tell you a secret?” He sniffed and she wiped the tears away from his cheeks. She brought her mouth closer to his ear so she could whisper, “I hear the King of Ferelden is elf-blooded himself.” She pulled back and saw his shiny green hues widen.

            “Truly?” She nodded to his query. “But… How?”

            “Would you like to hear a tale about the King of Ferelden?” She sat back and leaned against her bed, and he sat against his and nodded his head. She’d heard this from someone who had apparently known Fiona, Alistair’s real mother, so she began to repeat the story that he had told her. She never believed Goldanna’s false story. She didn’t want to relay this to Alistair until she knew it was certain. Plus, she thought Fiona deserved to tell him herself someday.

            “Once upon a time an elven woman King Maric Theirin had traveled with showed up and presented him with his infant son. She pleaded with him to take their child and have him raised away from the hierarchy and be ignorant of his elf-blooded origins as she could not take care of him herself. He was raised by Arl Eamon of Redcliffe, but his wife began to believe that Alistair was his own bastard son. So she forced him to send him away and he was betrothed to the chantry and the life of being a Templar. Before he could take his vows, a Grey Warden, Duncan, came and conscripted him.

            “Within his time with the wardens he met a woman, and he confided in her that his life growing up was terrible. More than often he slept amongst the dogs and pigs, and during his time with the chantry he was treated as nothing but a fool, but all throughout their journey he never stopped smiling at the little things, never stopped to feel sorry for his circumstances. He rose above it all, and when it came time, he became King. So do not fret over the little things, young Hunter, for one day you could rise to become great.”

            His eyes were wide as he soaked in her story. Sure she embellished a few things. There were times when he was down on himself, times when they didn’t think they’d be able to keep going, but once he’d sat through his frowning a new smile would appear and he’d always do something to try and lighten their companions’ moods. If it wasn’t for Alistair she never would have made it to the end. She wouldn’t be alive. Though that last one still burned a bit, she had forgiven Alistair for the Dark Ritual. She loved him enough to sacrifice her life for him, why should she be angry with him that he’d be willing to sacrifice his future well-being for her.

            “Tell me of your mother.” Ohahn inquired gently.

            He looked torn for a moment, but he acquiesced to her request. “She was Dalish… She said her clan exiled her because she fell for a human. Momma never told me what happened to him, but he was never there and she always looked sad when I asked so I stopped.  She took care of me… She was a mage too and she helped me when my powers started coming up, but when the blight came we had to flee and we ran into darkspawn in the Vinmark Mountains I think… One of them cut her, and she… She…” His voice caught in his throat as the tears sprang from his eyes again.

            “Shh, come here, child,” Ohahn beckoned and like a bolt of lightning he was quickly in her arms, sobbing into her tunic. She stiffened for a moment, not sure how to handle this situation. She wasn’t good with crying individuals either. Well, she wasn’t good with most people not named Alistair. She wrapped her arms around him gently, softly stroking the back of his neck. How could no one have taken pity on this child throughout his travels? Had he been alone the last few years?

            After a while, his sobbing finally ceased and she could feel his breath slowly leaving his mouth on her neck. Once she was sure he was asleep she picked him up as she rose and laid him down into his bed, tucking him in underneath the covers.

            She let out a sigh as she looked at the sleeping child. She wondered what Alistair’s reaction would be when she made it home. With a child no less. She had never wanted children and she knew some little part of him was saddened at the prospect of never having a child with her. She’d see the longing looks he got when children would play in the market in Denerim, but would he be okay that she’d essentially swooped one up and brought him home? Which brought her to worrying endlessly this past year and a half that he’d found another woman. Would she find one in his bed when she made it back? Would he be angry with her? He should be, she certainly deserved it for leaving in the middle of the night without a word, or even a note.

            She grabbed her pack and looked inside, fishing out a journal she found in Weisshaupt. It was Riordan’s and she had quietly snuck it into her bag. He spoke of his journeys and most importantly in the last part, how he was dealing with hearing the calling. She needed that, especially since she feared her dreams were that. She wasn’t hearing any songs, but the dreams of darkspawn were plaguing her nonsensically. She always felt tired, but she never wanted to sleep.

            Eventually she had dozed off and had awoken when smaller hands began to gently rouse her from her dreams.

            “Are you okay?” She heard his small voice. “You were starting to shout.”

            She shook her head, realizing she was out of breath. “I’m sorry.”

            “I have nightmares too…” He admitted and she sat up seeing the light beginning to shine through the window.

            “We’re quite the team then, Hunter.”

            “Ris.”

            “Pardon?”

            “My name is Inan’Ris. Momma said it meant something like ‘little windows to the soul,’” A small smile tugged at her lips. She had to admit this child was growing on her.


	10. You’re so much fun to touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Contains NSFW content.

            It was so strange being back. Ohahn hadn’t meant to leave the second time, but she didn’t want to risk the Grey Warden’s threat against her family coming true. It’d been a month since she’d returned, wounds finally healing, new scars to add to the list, but she was home. She didn’t consider Denerim home, however, she was never really sure any place truly felt like home due to her wandering spirit. But Alistair was always home as well as their adopted son Ris.

            Her feet touched the cold of the stone floor as she tip toed her way down the hall. She slid her fingers along the wall. This place was so unfamiliar, and she knew it was her fault. She didn’t spend enough time in these walls to truly know them. She passed a guard or two, no one passing her a second glance. She cringed often at the ‘my Queen’ greeting, and most knew she felt uncomfortable with the moniker.

            It was strange being Queen, especially when she shirked most duties. She only wanted to be there for Alistair and help if she could. She wasn’t good at life as a noble despite being the daughter of a Teyrn. She’d spent most of her days when she was a child fighting her mother’s teachings at being a proper lady.

            She’d made it to the office Alistair used when he was attending to his Kingly duties. He had several meetings with a few nobles today, and usually that meant he’d be looking over papers late into the evening. She missed him. He hadn’t wanted to ‘disturb’ her while she was recovering, and she had to admit she was anxious at just _being_ together again.

            She quietly slipped through the crack of the door. Alistair was sitting at his desk squinting at a paper in the waning light of the candle. She closed the door as quietly as she could, and he was still in his own little world. He got so serious about his duties, always worried he wasn’t going to do a good job, despite never wanting it to begin with. Eamon and Teagan had helped him as much as they could.

            She slipped around the room, quietly padding behind him. She saw the little smile on his face, he’d known her presence all along, yet chose to act as though he had no idea. She placed her hands on his shoulders and felt the tension there quickly ease.

            “How are you this evening, my dear?” She asked, lowering her head down to his to plant a kiss to his cheek.

            He took in a deep breath to let out a sigh. “Oh, the usual it seems.” He groused, then upped his voice a pitch in a mocking manner. “‘ _I’m appalled at the behavior of your Ferelden representative at the gala in Val Royeaux. How dare you’_ blah blah blah… Typical grievance letters I’ve been ignoring. I really should let someone else reply. The last time I decided to spare the retainer and reply myself, another tersely worded letter arrived, all in Orlesian. They didn’t even bother with the common tongue on that one.”

            “The Orlesians always have something frivolous to complain about.” She said and slipped her hands over his chest. “I believe they can wait, don’t you?” She said, her breath warm against his neck.

            He scoffed, “How could I ever shirk my duties as King? These letters are begging for an asinine reply, don’t you agree, love?”

            She laughed, hand slipping lower down his stomach, smoothing over the cotton of his undershirt. He’d long since discarded his royal attire, preferring to be comfortable as the day grew later.

            He cleared his throat, “Someone’s hands are wandering.”

            “Mmhm,” She hummed evenly, lips pressing against the quickening pulse in his neck. “Come to bed.”

            He seemed keen on teasing her further, “Oh, but who will finish these letters?”

            “The letters can wait,” She slipped her hand lower, fingers dipping underneath the hem of his trousers. She listened to him groan when her palm eased over his length. “You’re so much fun to touch.” She whispered in his ear, seeing his resolve beginning to break down.

            “You’re a terrible influence. You helped put me in this job you know?” He groaned again as she squeezed him, feeling him harden underneath her touch.

            “And you’re doing it too well, I might add,” She said, stroking him further. She watched the rise and fall of his Adam’s apple in his throat, his hands gripping the arms of the chair. “I’ve laid awake waiting for you to come to bed.” She continued to stroke him, though she was slow with her touch.

            “It was… Mmm… Never my intention.”

            “You don’t have to treat me as though I’m fragile, Alistair,” She told him. “You of all people know that I am anything but.”

            “Mm, yes I know…” He lost his thought for a moment, “I didn’t want to… Rush you,” he panted, then finally pulled her around so she was in front of him. He pushed the papers from his desk and she chuckled with her smirk when he moved her to sit on its surface. He stood, leaning down to capture her lips and she spread her legs to pull him closer to her. She felt his hand smooth up her thigh, sliding past the hem of his tunic that she was wearing.

            “You walked all the way down here with nothing underneath?” He asked in between kisses. She smirked into his lips, slipping her tongue inside his mouth to taste what he’d been drinking tonight. Ale it seemed was his choice of drink, and it tasted good on his tongue. “Mm, not so fast, I have more questions.” She felt the press of his thumb at her hip and she chuckled out loud when he moved to kiss her neck. “How many guards saw you like this?”

            “Mm, maybe four.” She heard his mock gasp and she smiled cheekily up at him.

            “Four? You’re wearing a robe, at least tell me it was closed until you arrived at my door?”

            “And if I say it wasn’t?” She asked, sliding her hands over his chest.

            “I would have to punish you.” He teased, and she felt his palm heavy at the top of her thigh.

            “And how would you do that?” She smirked.

            “Well, it’s quite obvious what you’re after,” He kissed her. “I would just leave, right now—” He pretended that he was about to walk away, when she gripped his shirt and pulled him back to her.

            “That’s not acceptable,” She said, watching the cheeky grin on his face spread. She pulled him back down to kiss her then tugged his trousers down his hips and felt him ease her back against the desk.

            “Oh, does the lady not agree?” He kissed down her neck and she arched her hips into his feeling him slide against her entrance.

            “No,” She said, breath quickening trying to urge him along. She kissed his cheek, whispering something dirty in his ear. She heard him groan again, his chest pressing against hers. She loved the feel of his broad chest against her, his body large, making her feel small despite her own tall and stocky stature.

            She finally felt him push inside of her, trying to be slow, but their fire had been lit. She let out a sigh of a moan as he hilted himself, so thick, he felt so good within her. Her fingers dug into the back of his neck, he let out a gasp as he kissed her, arching his hips out to snap back inside of her. She grunted herself, gripping his shirt and pulling it up so she could press her fingers into the taut muscles of his back.

            She’d missed him so much, not only this, but missed the teasing that came along with this. Their passion hadn’t dwindled all these nearly ten years, though she suspected it was partly her fault for leaving twice for a fair chunk of time. She could never get over the thick slide of him inside of her, however, her own hands never felt the way his did.

            “Alistair,” She gasped, her breath leaving her in quick pants. He thrust into her a little harder, just the way she liked it, and she felt the tight grip of his hand at her hip leave. He lifted up just slightly, angling himself a little better, and she shuddered, squeezing him tightly to feel him falter in his thrusts. He crushed her mouth with his. She whimpered when he paused his motions, letting her feel him fully within her.

            His muscles were tense, tight under his skin, waiting, wanting to draw this out. She knew he was close, and he knew that if he paused in his own motions, denied her the movement, it would only drive her closer to her own release. She writhed beneath his large body, moaning despite her own quiet nature. He always knew how to drive her crazy.

            “Impatient?” He strained to say, chuckling a little before he pulled out of her to thrust back inside. She tried to stifle her moan, but she couldn’t help herself, he made her feel so good and she liked for him to know that.

            “Very,” She panted, pulling his mouth to hers. She felt her own release building, she bucked her hips against his and felt herself come undone. She clenched him, pulling him close as he pumped inside of her to his own end. He let out a strained groan, his body stilling above hers as she felt him come. She held him in a tight embrace as they finally relaxed. She felt his hand slip up her thigh, thumb stroking lazily into her as he held himself still above her.

            “Bad influence.” He found his breath, teasing her and she laughed. Her cheeks were flushed, but she was content, and didn’t care that she’d coaxed her husband to screw her senseless on top of his desk.

            “Mmhm,” She hummed, pressing her lips back to his.

            “I’m supposed to be the innocent and proper King.” He whispered against her mouth and she laughed.

            “I don’t think you were ever innocent, my love.” She said, slapping her hand across his ass and causing him to jump, and he began to laugh against her lips.

            “You are terrible,” He kissed her back. “And I love you for it.”

            “I love you too.” She smiled up at him. “Now come to bed.”


End file.
